Nocturne
by Cantique
Summary: Crane enjoyed breaking her. To not take her as a prize would be to not honor his hard work. Crane/OC, around the time of TDKR with some pre-Begins in there. Oneshot unless I feel inspired or you guys REALLY want.


**A/N:** Please go easy on me, everyone. I literally haven't written and published fic in over two years now. Let me know what you think, if you like it I might just continue it.

* * *

_"You've got my file," she exhaled, eyeing him from her seat. With one leg crossed over the other, she held her head high, exuding nothing but confidence. "Work it out for yourself. You can read, can't you?" _

_This was something Dr Crane liked about his newest case. Her confidence that he wouldn't get through to her. It was almost arrogance. Scarecrow would be so satisfied when he could finally get his hands on this one._

_"But I want to hear it from you," he laid down his pen on his desk, sitting back in his seat. "Not from a piece of paper." He gave a pause, his eyes set firmly on her expression. "Do you trust me?"_

_Olivia raised her eyebrow, a look of disbelief on her face. "No," she responded, half a laugh in her voice, mocking the question._

_"Of course you don't. I didn't expect you would." Crane leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his laced fingers which met in a bridge. "How can I expect you to trust me if we don't get to know each other?"_

_"What?" The other eyebrow followed the first. "If I tell you about myself, does this mean I'll get to know the real you?" Her voice was bitter and heavy with sarcasm. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he looked downwards at her file once more, adjusting his glasses._

_"In time, you'll get to know everything about me," his eyes returned to her face, which had reverted back to one of suspicion. "You might be quite surprised."_**  
**

He watched her as she gazed out the window, watching the city from the raindrops that had gathered, her face almost looking desperate at the visions playing out before her, her arms shaking from withdrawals. Every sight and sound got to her she she sat on the floor by that window, even unaware that he was back.

He'd been against the idea of a 'pet' as the others had called them. Prisoners kept in their living quarters, more or less, usually women. It had quickly become the norm after Bane took over, and although Bane didn't exactly advocate it, he didn't condemn it, either.

"Come on, boss. All the king pins got 'em," one of the men assigned to him by Bane had explained, his hand gripping the hair of an unfortunate woman trying to steal food from them. She was a pretty girl from an objective viewpoint which was probably the reason the guard was offering - perhaps to gain him some face with his boss. He had very little interest in her, however. He had more pressing matters than that to attend to in his spare time, like his experiments.

"Not your type, eh?" The guard joked as he watched the rejected woman be dragged away by others, Crane opening his door. "Sure wish I was in your position, boss. Anyone in the city, you know? All you gotta' do is name 'em."

He'd paused, this more than catching his attention. "Anyone?"

And there she was now, shivering and bugging out by his rainy window, always waiting for him when he got home. She'd resisted for the first few days, much to Scarecrow's delight, but eventually the drugs had taken effect. He'd broken her enough in their therapy sessions to trick her into trusting him, into thinking she was there for her own safety and the drugs would help her anxiety and 'paranoid delusions' - paranoid delusions that were extremely warranted, but she never needed to know that.

The mess by the windowsill who's eyes stayed focused through her tremors was under his complete control now. Her mind, her body, her nightmares, everything.

"Olivia, I'm home," he finally announced, placing his coat on the nearby seat. She'd already scrambled to her feet before he even finished speaking - she'd become clingy with time. That was to be expected, however. She was completely dependent on him now. He was the man that fed her, kept her safe, decided when she received attention or even affection. But he was also the man who choose if she would sleep soundly or spend that night living within the most powerful of night terrors. He was her everything now.

She ran to him, pausing and hesitating for a moment, her wide eyes questioning from beneath her wild hair, waiting to see how he'd receive her. Sometimes, if the mood struck him, he wouldn't acknowledge her for days at a time, enjoying the sight of her need for attention tear her apart from the inside out. Today, however, he was in a good mood, opening his arms and nodding to her. Without an ounce of hesitation she threw herself at him, her arms around him and her head laid on his chest, a sigh of content escaping her.

He smiled to himself. and looked down at her head, her tremors calming if not only slightly. "Olivia," he began, a hand coming to her head to gentle stroke her hair. "We'll be doing more experiments tonight."

Her head snapped up, worry on her face as she gazed at him, her arms not straying from him. "No Scarecrow?" Her voice quivered. He couldn't help but smile - not only was she terrified of Scarecrow, but she was terrified of him, the person who could let him out should he feel like it. He paused, feeling her tremors rise up again at the possibility.

He took a lock of her dark hair between his fingers, examining it. He'd had a good day today, and he wanted to savor her special brand of fear and paranoia himself. "No Scarecrow tonight."

Tonight, this was all his.


End file.
